


Walking the Wire

by Pretty__Boy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BAMF Gabriel (Supernatural), Belting, Dom Gabriel, Dom/sub, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Insecure Sam Winchester, Insecurity, M/M, Praise Kink, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Gabriel, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sam has issues okay, Second chapter tags:, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Spanking, Strapping, Sub Sam Winchester, Tags May Change, Top Gabriel/Bottom Sam Winchester, and sub!dean, hint of dom!cas, rating is for the second chapter, there's not a whole lot of violence but I put in a warning jic, whoops I wrote strapping instead of belting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-06-05 04:03:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15162200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pretty__Boy/pseuds/Pretty__Boy
Summary: Sam gets kidnapped by this week’s Big Bad. Gabriel does not take kindly to people taking things that are his.Inspired by this prompt: "This is the third time I've been kidnapped this WEEK. It's getting old."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really know what this is, but it's been sitting in my drive for a couple months so I figured I'd finally post it and maybe get back to the second chapter. The second chapter is going to be the explicit one. Meanwhile, I hope you enjoy!

“I am _not_ staying behind,” Sam insists indignantly.

 

“Yes, you are, Sammy. You’ve been kidnapped twice this week already, and,” Dean’s eyes cut from Sam’s to the man’s arm, where he’s very obviously holding it to his chest, “we _both_ know that arm has you off your game.”

 

Sam immediately drops the arm to his side, cursing himself. “My arm is fine, Dean.”

 

“Sam, so help me God if you don’t sit your ass back down…” Dean trails off, the threat implied in his voice.

 

Sam opens his mouth to argue but quickly thinks better of it. If he plays his cards right, he can make this work out in his favor. “Fine,” Sam says, plopping himself down on the crappy bed behind him. “But at least take Cas with you.”

 

Sam knows he’s hit his target when Dean clenches his jaw and his expression hardens. “You _know_ he’s on heavenly business or some shit. He hasn’t been down in weeks.”

 

“I know, Dean.” Sam makes a concentrated effort to appear repentant. “I just don’t want you to go if you don’t have someone there to cover your back.” Dean’s expression softens a little. “Just…” Sam sighs mournfully, and bores into Dean with the full force of his puppy eyes, “can you wait until morning? You’ll be safer in the daylight.”

 

Dean looks away, heaving a sigh. “Fine, bitch.” The older man turns out the lights, then sits down on the bed opposite of Sam’s to remove his shoes. “But don’t think this means I’m letting you come on the hunt tomorrow.”

 

“Whatever, jerk,” Sam responds with a smile.

 

Dean grunts, barely acknowledging the reply before he rolls over and passes out.

 

Sam lies in his bed for thirty minutes after the fact, just to make sure his older brother is really asleep.

 

When he’s sure that Dean is definitely asleep, he slowly hauls himself up and pulls on his shoes. Quietly, the younger hunter makes his way to the door. He hesitates halfway there by the entryway table, considering the keys to the Impala. Sam quickly decides against it. _Dean’s already going to want to beat my ass as it is, that would just add fuel to the fire._

 

Shaking his head, Sam continues his way to the door. Once there, though, he hesitates again, turning around to consider his sleeping brother. _God, Dean’s gonna be so pissed when he finds out what I did._ He shifts the wrong way; his arm twinges. _I don’t want him to feel like I’ve betrayed him again, or lose his trust._ Dean twitches slightly in his sleep before settling down. _But it’s the only option. I’ve got to protect Dean. He’s pulled my ass out of the fire enough times; it’s my fault I’m injured anyway. He shouldn’t have to put himself in harm’s way because_ _I fucked up._

 

Mind made up, Sam turns away from his brother, hoping he’ll understand. He unlocks the door with quiet, nimble fingers, and slips away into the night.

 

\------

 

Sam doesn’t know how he keeps finding himself in these situations. Admittedly, this time it was more his fault; in his efforts to get out of the motel room unnoticed, he’d left his weapons behind. In his defense, he _had_ been on his way to ‘borrow’ some from a local sporting goods store. But there had been too many of them.

 

Now, he’s tied uncomfortably to a chair in the middle of a meat locker, for fuck’s sake.

 

 _I am_ so _screwed when the guys find out about this,_ he thinks to himself, taking a minute to drink in how epically fucked he is.

 

His thoughts are interrupted by a loud bang somewhere off to his left. “You _idiot,_ ” comes from the same direction, and Sam looks up just in time to see three people come around the corner, toting various metal weaponry.

 

“Sam Winchester,” the tallest one begins, “how _lovely_ it is to see you again.”

 

“Come on, Jeremy,” Sam pulls his best bitchface, “this is the third time I’ve been kidnapped this _week._ It’s getting old.”

 

“I see you haven’t lost your sense of humor, boy,” Jeremy replies with a dark chuckle. “We’ll see if you can keep it.” Gesturing his lackeys to stand in front of him, he continues, “I brought some new toys this time.”

 

Lackey number 1 brandishes a fancy-looking knife, his eyes flashing black. It’s obnoxiously shiny; one side is serrated, the other a wicked sharp, smooth blade ground to a gleaming tip.

 

Sam tries to figure out what lackey number 2 has in store for him, but is distracted as lackey one advances upon him.

 

He briefly considers praying to Gabriel for help.

 

 _No,_ a voice whispers, sickly sweet in his ears. _He’s in heaven, putting things right. That’s more important than you._

 

Sam loses the chance for thought as lackey one makes his first slice, cutting through Sam’s shirt and clean through to the muscle.

 

\------

 

Early morning light filters through a dirty motel room window, bathing the room inside with a soft, warm glow. One beam in particular shines intensely across the table in the entryway. Slowly, it inches its way towards the bed closest to the door.

 

The bed’s occupant grunts when the sunbeam reaches him, casting its rays across his face. He rolls over in an attempt to escape the daylight; for a short while, he is successful. However, within fifteen minutes, the room has been invaded by the insistent light.

 

Groaning, Dean sits up and casts his gaze to his brother’s bed, not surprised to see it already empty. He listens for the familiar sounds of the shower coming from the bathroom but hears nothing.

 

Frowning, he gets up and knocks on the bathroom door. “Sammy?” He knocks again. “Sam? You in there?”

 

His frown deepens when he doesn’t receive a response. Usually, if his brother isn’t in the shower in the morning, he’s either out for a run or doing nerd stuff on his laptop; but, after looking at the clock, it’s way past time for Sam to be back from a run, and he’s missing from everywhere else in the room.

 

Then, it clicks. “Damn it, Sammy,” Dean says to himself. _He must have snuck off last night while I was asleep._ Pulling out his phone, he dials Sam’s number.

 

 _“Ah, Dean. How nice of you to finally call,”_ a voice that is distinctly not Sam’s answers.

 

“Who the fuck is this?” Dean growls.

 

 _“Oh, no one important,”_ the voice drawls. _“Just the guy who has your brother by the balls.”_

 

“So help me God, if you’ve hurt one hair on his head…” Dean trails off, the threat hanging heavy in the air.

 

A dark chuckle. _“Oh, we’re way past that, Dean.”_

 

“When I find you,” begins Dean in his Big Brother voice, “I’m going to kill you. Slowly.” A pause for effect. “And I’m going to enjoy it.”

 

_“Now, now. There’s no reason for such threats, Dean.”_

 

“What the fuck do you want?” Dean says through clenched teeth.

 

_“Nothing.”_

 

Dean is taken aback. “Nothing?”

 

 _“You heard me,”_ the voice replies. _“We’ve heard stories about you Winchesters; wanted to see if you lived up to the hype.”_

 

Clenching his jaw, Dean suppresses the urge to throw his phone across the room.

 

 _“I’ve got to say,”_ the voice continues, _“I’m pretty disappointed. It was almost_ easy _to get ahold of your brother.”_ A cry sounds from the other end of the line. _“And his screams are so pretty.”_

 

“You son of a-”

 

 _“I think I’m going to keep him,”_ the man interrupts.

 

The line goes dead before Dean can even open his mouth to respond. Now he really does throw his phone across the room, not nearly satisfied enough by the shattering sound it makes as it hits the wall.

 

“Fuck,” Dean curses. He’s got a pretty good idea where his brother is, but if the injuries he has sustained in the past week are any indication, Sam’s going to be pretty banged up when he finds him.

 

So Dean does the only thing he can do; he prays. “Castiel, get your feathery ass down here.”

 

When Cas doesn’t appear, Dean curses to himself and reluctantly tries Gabriel. “Gabriel, grab Cas and get your asses down here. Someone’s got Sammy.”

 

In the blink of an eye, there’s the brief sound of rustling feathers as both angels appear a few feet in front of Dean, Gabriel looking a little wild. “What happened?” He demands.

 

“He tricked me,” Dean explains. “Snuck out last night to take on the demons we’ve been hunting by himself.”

Cas cocks his head. “Why would he go without you?”

 

“Because I wasn’t going to let him go with me,” Dean says, frustrated. “He was injured.”

 

Gabriel is in his face in an instant. “Why didn’t you call me?”

 

“We had it handled.” Dean defends himself. “I was going to take care of them today while Sam was on the bench; we talked about it last night.”

 

“Oh, and you really bought that Sam was going to let himself be benched?” Gabriel says incredulously. “ _Sam?_ Mr. Self-Sacrificing Idiot himself?”

 

“Gabriel. Dean,” Castiel interrupts firmly. “None of your childish bickering is going to help Sam.”

 

Gabriel visibly calms himself, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “You’re right, Cassie.”

 

Dean nods his assent, not trusting his self-restraint. _God damn self-righteous angels--_ Castiel shoots him a sharp look. Dean looks away.

 

“Do you know where he is, Dean?” Cas asks.

 

“I have an idea, but-”

 

“It’s okay, Dean-o,” Gabriel interrupts, expression falsely smug. “I know where he is.” He nods to the duffel bag underneath Dean’s bed. “Grab what you need, now. We’re leaving.” For once, Dean doesn’t argue.

 

Once he’s loaded up, they’re gone in a simple snap. The trio appears outside of a dilapidated factory. Dean stumbles away from Gabriel, sending a half-glare his way.

 

“Dean,” Castiel scolds. Dean ducks his head and busies himself with prepping his weapons.

 

Gabriel, wisely, doesn’t say anything, instead choosing to snicker to himself quietly. “Ready, princess?”

 

This time it’s Gabriel that Cas scolds. “Gabriel. Some maturity, please.” Gabriel laughs him off but doesn’t say anything else to Dean.

 

Dean cocks his pistol. “Alright. Let’s get these sons of bitches.”

 

\------

 

Thankfully, one thing that both angels have learned to be good at is stealth; they infiltrate the factory undetected. Most of the factory is abandoned, but there’s fresh blood everywhere: splattered on the walls, pooled on the ground, even dripping from the boxes stacked haphazardly around them.

 

“Looks like these demons have themselves a murder factory,” Gabriel whispers, voice lilting at the end to indicate he’s trying to make a joke.

 

“Yes,” Cas agrees seriously.

 

Dean moves past the two, advancing deeper into the grisly scene. “Come on. We’ve gotta find Sam.”

 

Suddenly, a cry echoes from somewhere in the factory. The sound sends shivers down the spines of everyone present, human and angel alike.

 

“That was Sam,” Gabriel says, his voice quiet and dangerous.

 

Cas nods gravely. “Yes, I can sense his pain.”

 

Dean tenses, his jaw clenched so hard Castiel briefly finds himself wondering if his teeth will crack. Before he can say anything to comfort his human, though, another cry rings out and Dean charges in that direction.

  
“Damn it, Dean,” Castiel says under his breath, exchanging an exasperated look with Gabriel before the two turn to follow the reckless human.

 

\------

 

Fortunately for Dean, being the Protective and Pissed Older Brother results in the ability to break down the door between him and his brother in one try. It takes him a split second to locate Sam and his tormentors. They stand about 20 feet away from where Dean has just busted down the door; three men surround his brother, who is hunched in on himself in an effort to protect his already injured stomach.

 

“Well, well, well.” The tallest of Sam’s torturers, Jeremy, turns towards Dean. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

 

“I’m going to skin you,” Dean growls, “very slowly.” He starts toward his brother, Castiel and Gabriel dashing into the room behind him.

 

“Oh shit,” Jeremy curses. _I’m so fucked._

 

Castiel doesn’t blink an eye at the scene in front of them, but it makes Gabriel pause in shock. The shock transforms into righteous fury in an instant. The lights in the room flicker and the air crackles with charged, barely controlled energy. Gabriel vaporizes the two smaller demons with a simple snap. Then, between one blink and the next, the archangel is across the room and in the face of Sam’s primary tormentor.

 

He shoves the demon, Jeremy, against the wall. “Do you understand what you have done?” Gabriel growls, eyes flashing dangerously. The demon whimpers in his grasp. “He,” Gabriel jerks his head in Sam’s direction, “is _mine._ I don’t take kindly to anything, let alone low-life demons, touching, _harming,_ ” the archangel, looking every bit the part for once, emphasizes this word with a shake, “what’s mine.” He slams Jeremy backward viciously into the unforgiving wall, causing the demon to whimper again.

 

“Gabriel,” Cas’ voice seizes Gabriel’s attention. “Sam.”

 

Turning briefly to look at Sam, Gabriel shifts his gaze to his mate; it takes nothing but a small whimper of pain from the hunter to bring Gabriel’s attention back to the demon in his grasp. With a fire burning in his eyes, he places his palm on the demon’s forehead and burns it from the inside out without a hint of remorse.

 

In a flash Gabriel appears at his mate’s side, carefully placing his hands on Sam’s face. Glassy eyes meet his. “Gabr’l?” Sam rasps, his voice hoarse.

 

“I’m here, baby,” Gabriel responds. “Come on, let’s get you healed up.” He gingerly places two fingers on Sam’s forehead, using his grace to feel all of the damage to Sam’s body and heal it along the way. The archangel lets out a quiet growl as he feels the gashes on his mate’s torso and the fractures in his ribs.

 

“Th’ks,” Sam says, eyes clearing a bit. He tries, and fails, to stand up, seemingly having forgotten about being bound to the chair. With a snap, he’s free.

 

The hunter goes to try to stand again, but Gabriel pushes him back down gently. “Easy there, Sasquatch. I’ll take care of you.” The archangel gathers his human up in his arms. The sight is almost comical due to their height difference, but no-one is laughing. “Why didn’t you call me, Sam?”

 

“Dn’t wanna both’r you,” Sam whispers, looking away.

 

 _No,_ Gabriel thinks, _there’s definitely more to it than that._ Gabriel guides Sam’s gaze back to his own, trying to figure out the rest. Seeing the remaining glassiness in his mate’s eyes makes him decide to leave that line of inquiry for later.

 

“L’ve you, Gabe,” Sam says, reaching up to touch his face.

 

“I love you too, baby.” Gabriel moves his hand back down to rest with the other against his chest. “Now sleep. We’ll talk when you’re feeling better.”

 

Sam nods wearily, letting his head fall against Gabe’s chest. The archangel gathers him impossibly closer, whispering, “You are in _so_ much trouble when you wake up, kiddo.” Then he turns to Castiel and Dean. “Alright, boys. Let’s go home.”

 

\------


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabe takes care of Sam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this spread out over three days in my spare time, so please forgive me if it seems a little choppy.   
> I hope you enjoy!

Sam wakes to the smell of pancakes and bacon wafting in from the kitchen. He rubs his eyes, groggy and still mildly sore from… what was he sore from again?

 

The sight of Dean in the doorway to his room brings the memories back in a flash. _Oh shit,_ Sam thinks to himself, _Gabe is going to be so pissed; I’m not going to be able to sit for a week._

 

“Come on, Sammy.” Dean’s voice breaks him out of his thoughts. “Your angel’s almost got breakfast ready.”

 

Sam stretches as he sits up. “I need to get dressed,” he pulls back the covers reluctantly, “I’ll be there in a couple minutes.”

 

Dean acquiesces and nods, parting with, “Gabe is so gonna toast your ass, dude,” and walking away too fast for Sam to respond. Not that he could have.

 

Sighing, he hauls himself out of bed and pulls on a soft set of pajamas. The younger hunter exits the room swiftly, deciding it’s best not to prolong his suffering any longer than necessary.

 

“Good morning, Sammich,” Gabriel greets, the picture of cheer. “Take a seat,” he says, indicating the table. “I was just about to serve all this goodness up for you.” The archangel smirks absentmindedly at the unintended innuendo.

 

“Morning, Gabe,” Sam greets sheepishly, moving to sit across from where his brother and Cas are staring soulfully into each other’s eyes.

 

Gabriel slides a stack of pancakes under his nose, complete with a couple of strips of bacon on the side. “Here you go, Sammykins,” the archangel coos with a grin on his face.

 

Sam wrinkles his nose at the nickname but doesn’t comment. Gabriel winks at him. “Thanks,” he replies dryly. Gabe flashes him a mischievous grin as he puts Dean and Cas’ food in front of them, finally laying out an impressive spread. “Is that _three_ types of syrup on your pancakes?” Sam asks, eyebrows raised. “And,” he peers closer, “ _candied_ bacon?”

 

The archangel just offers the taller man a gooey smile as he tries to chew a too-large bite.

 

Sam sighs in fond exasperation. “Only you.”

 

* * *

 

 

At the end of the meal, when Sam moves to pick up the plates and take them to the sink, Gabriel simply shakes his head and snaps them away. “We,” he says, tone somewhat serious, “need to talk.”

 

_I can’t tell how mad he is. Should I apologize? Should I be calling him Sir?_ Sam wonders. _No, he’s not using his Dom voice yet._ Eventually, Sam settles for a nod and a humble lowering of his eyes.

 

Gabriel’s entire demeanor changes the moment they’re through the threshold of Sam’s room. “Shut the door behind you,” he says to Sam over his shoulder, effortlessly taking control.

 

“Yes, sir,” Sam replies quietly, doing as his Dom bade.

 

He watches Gabriel fish through their drawer of toys, humming and pulling out a couple before sliding that drawer shut and opening the one for punishments. Here, he takes his time, carefully considering quite a few options before pulling out several instruments and placing them just out of Sam’s view.

“Okay, Sam,” Gabriel begins, having finished arranging the implements to his approval. “We can do this two ways: either we talk about why you willfully put yourself in danger and refused to call me before your punishment or after.” The Dom considers his sub, taking in the bowed head and slightly hunched posture. “Are you ready to talk about it right now?”

 

Raising his eyes a little, the sub answers quietly, “No, Sir.” Sam nearly whimpers, obviously distressed. “I’m sorry, Sir, I know you’re disappointed in me--”

 

“Shh,” Gabriel cuts him off, reaching out to stroke his head. “I am upset, but we’re going to take care of your punishment, then we’re going to talk, and everything will be settled.” Gabriel feels Sam’s body lose a bit of the tension it had been holding. “I know I’ve been gone for a while, baby. I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you, but I’m going to take care of you now.”

 

With that, he lowers his hand and orders, “Kneel, Sam,” before moving to collect two of the implements from the dresser. Then he settles himself on the edge of the bed and pats his knee. “Bottoms and boxers at your ankles.”

 

Sam gulps but obeys with little reluctance.

 

“Good boy,” Gabriel praises as Sam drapes himself, unbidden, over the Dom’s lap. “Now, this isn’t going to be pleasant; I’ll warm you up with my hand first, but you will be taking a good amount with the strap and the cane. Understood?” The question is emphasized with a sudden slap against his right cheek.

 

Sam lets out a sharp breath as he nods.

 

This earns him another strike on the same spot. “I need verbal confirmation, Sam.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Sam responds, shifting slightly.

 

“Good. And your colors?”

 

“Green for all good, yellow for slow down, and red for full stop.”

 

“Very good.” The spanking begins in earnest then, Gabriel landing harsh blows in an unpredictable pattern all over his ass. “I’ll be speaking to you throughout, okay? I expect verbal responses to any of my questions and one of our gestures when not.” The archangel’s hand pauses in its assault. “Safeword?”

 

“Poughkeepsie,” Sam confirms, having expected this question. It’s something they do every time, just to be safe.

 

Sam receives a soothing hand on his lower back for his obedience.

 

_Smack._

 

_Smack._

 

_Smack._

 

_Smack._

 

_Smack._

 

_Smack._

 

Sam shifts with every blow, alternating between rocking into them and shifting away from them in no discernible pattern. _Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack._ Five blows in quick succession signal the end of the warm-up. Sam sighs as he feels Gabriel run a hand over his stinging ass.

 

“Okay, baby, warm up’s over,” comes Gabriel’s warm voice. “You know what to do.”

 

Sam does know what to do. They’ve done this many times before, and the hunter doesn’t think he’s going to be forgetting any of those instances in the foreseeable future. He drapes himself over the end of the bed, his legs – wanting to obey gravity but restricted by Sam’s position – jutting out at a slightly odd angle.

 

“Good boy,” Gabriel praises. Sam loses a little bit of tension he hadn’t known he’d been carrying. The archangel takes this as a good sign and steps off to the right, moving a thick strap and a harsh-looking cane closer.

 

The rustling noise draws Sam’s attention, and he can’t help but crane his neck to try to see what the Dom is doing. Gabriel notices as soon as he turns back to Sam, and he gives Sam’s ass a sharp pinch. “Eyes forward,” he scolds, watching in satisfaction as Sam hastens to obey.

 

Gabriel reaches over and picks up the strap he’d moved earlier. “I’m going to push you hard, Sam,” he warns gently. “It’s obvious that you need both a physical and emotional release; badly.” He brushes a hand over the globes of Sam’s ass. “I’m going to strap you until you let yourself cry, and then I’m going to give you ten with the cane. Do you understand?”

 

“Yes, sir,” comes Sam’s subdued response.

 

Gabriel runs the strap over the palm of his hand, then pulls his arm back in preparation. “Color?”

 

Sam takes a deep breath. “Green, sir.”

 

The first blow comes faster than Sam had been expecting. The hunter rocks forward into the bed, sucking air in between his teeth. Gabriel takes no mercy on him, laying down strikes hard and fast.

 

Blow after blow lands, and Sam wearies, a fire building quickly in his ass. “Do you know how worried I was when your brother prayed to me, saying that you were hurt?” Gabriel emphasizes the words with a particularly sharp strike.

 

Sam nods, knows in his heart that Gabriel loves and cares for him, but can’t convince his head.

 

“Liar,” the archangel accuses, bringing the strap down rapidly. “You forget, Sam,” another blow, “that I can tell what you’re thinking.” _I did know that,_ Sam thinks to himself hazily. “Want to try again?”

 

Tears prick at the corner of Sam’s eyes. “N-no, sir.”

 

Gabriel sighs. “It’s okay, sweet thing, we’ll get you there.” The archangel brings his arm down again. “I love you, Sam, and it pains me to see you hurt.”

 

_He’s lying. He has better things to care about,_ a dark corner of Sam’s mind whispers. _Don’t cry. You can’t cry. You can’t show him you’re weaker than he already thinks you are._ The hunter makes a concentrated effort to suppress his tears.

 

“I don’t think you’re weak, Sam,” Gabriel says. “In fact, I know you’re strong; it takes a lot of strength to put yourself in someone else’s hands and let them take you apart, trusting that they’ll put you back together.” Sam nods, his tears returning unbidden. “I’m honored by your submission, Sam.” Three blows in rapid succession. “But you have to take better care of yourself. By not doing so, you’re not only disrespecting yourself, but you’re disrespecting me.” Tears fall freely down Sam’s face now. He’d never thought of it that way. “Do you understand?”

 

Sam hesitates. “I...”

 

Instead of bringing the strap down again, Gabriel pauses and rests a hand on the small of his sub’s back. “Color, Sam?”

 

“G-green, sir,” Sam struggles to get out.

 

A soothing stroke up the hunter’s back. “Good. You’re taking your punishment so well, baby,” Gabriel praises. “We’re almost done.”

 

Sam whimpers, nodding. It only takes four more blows before Sam is sobbing openly.

 

“We’re almost done,” Gabriel repeats, dropping the strap and picking up the cane. “You’re going to get five with the cane, Sam, and then we’ll be done with your punishment.” Sam manages a small nod. “But I want you to count them.”

 

“Yes, s-sir,” Sam acknowledges, voice breaking. Gabriel pulls his arm back.

 

_Whap!_

 

“One, sir.”

 

_Whap!_

 

“T-two, sir.”

 

_Whap!_

 

“Three-e, sir.”

 

_Whap!_

 

“F-four, sir.”

 

_Whap!_

 

“F-f-five, sir.” Sam hears the cane hit the ground as Gabriel gathers the larger man up and settles the both of them against the headboard, mindful of Sam’s bottom.

 

“You did so well, baby,” Gabriel praises him. Sam shudders and presses closer to the archangel, the praise making him slightly dizzy. “I’m so proud of you.”

 

Gabriel kisses his hair, continuing to whisper soft praises and affirmations to Sam as he calms down. Rubbing a hand through Sam’s hair, Gabriel asks, “Ready to talk now, little one?”

 

“Yes, sir.” Sam’s reply is subdued but much more calm than before.

 

“I think I already have a pretty good idea, but I’m going to ask anyway: why didn’t you call me?”

 

“You were doing –” Sam cuts himself off, “I _thought_ you were doing more important things.”

 

“Nothing,” Gabriel whispers fiercely, “ _nothing,_ is ever more important than you. Capiche?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“You will always call me now, whenever you need help. I know you don’t like asking for it, but I don’t want to see you hurt again if I can prevent it.”

 

Sam nods against the archangel’s neck. “Okay, Gabriel.”

 

“Good,” Gabriel says. “Now,” he reaches across the bed and retrieves a small, familiar jar, “what do say we get some cool gel on that ass of yours?”

 

Sam nods again, body pliant as Gabriel maneuvers him onto his front, opening the top of the jar. Sam hisses as Gabriel rubs over one of the wheals left by the cane.

 

“Yeah,” Gabriel comments as he’s wrapping up, “you’re going to bruise pretty good, kid.” _An understatement,_ Gabriel thinks to himself. The beginning of some deep bruises are already blooming in places he’d hit with the strap more than once, and there are five wheals, one from every strike of the cane.

 

“’m sleepy,” Sam whispers into the mattress.

 

_And he really must be,_ Gabriel thinks, _if he’s saying ‘sleepy’._ “Alright, baby, let’s get you to bed.”

 

Gabriel scoots down onto the bed, resting Sam’s head in the hollow of his neck. Sam sighs contently. “’m sorry, Gabe.”

 

“I know, kid,” Gabriel whispers. “Just don’t ever do that again. Promise me.”

 

“I promise,” Sam says easily, snuggling closer. Gabriel pulls the comforter to cover them both, Sam falling asleep quickly.

 

“I love you, Sam.” Gabriel presses a firm kiss on Sam’s forehead before he settles in to sleep himself. Archangels don’t technically need sleep, but sometimes it feels nice anyway.

 

Soon, they are both asleep, safe and snuggled into each other’s arms, and everything is as it should be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops so I just realized there's no actual smut in this... if y'all want me to put some in or add another chapter I can, but for now, kaiidth.   
> Leave kudos or a comment if you like :)  
> Also, please feel free to give constructive criticism. I'm always looking for ways to improve!  
> Finally, thanks for reading :)

**Author's Note:**

> The second chapter is a WIP, but I am trying to work on it.  
> Let me know what you think! Comments and kudos are very much appreciated :)  
> *Update, 08/28/18: I should have this updated this week sometime, provided I have the time!


End file.
